


The Search For Pooka

by bry0psida



Series: Harringrove Advent [4]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas Shopping, Light-Hearted, M/M, Meet-Cute, One Shot, sort of? not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21669358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bry0psida/pseuds/bry0psida
Summary: Steve leaves Christmas shopping to the last minute by accident. Billy does it on purpose.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove
Series: Harringrove Advent [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558885
Comments: 9
Kudos: 84





	The Search For Pooka

Starcourt is packed. Steve finds himself wishing he hadn’t left Christmas shopping to the last minute. _Every year_ , he thinks. _Every year I do this and tell myself, ‘Well, next year I’ll get it done on time…’_

Getting into Toys “Я” Us is a struggle. Walking through the doors feel like stepping into some sort of gauntlet comprised of shopping carts, exasperated mothers and screaming children, all set to Señor Santa Claus by Elmo & Patsy.

Steve shoulders his bags to more efficiently bob and weave through bodies both tall and small, dodge harrowed staff and step over fallen merchandise, until, at last, he reaches the figurines section.

He scans the disorganised shelves, somehow barren in some spots yet overcrowded in others.

Steve breathes a sigh of relief when his eyes land on the last figurine of Pooka. He reaches for the slightly dented box, his fingers barely grazing the clear plastic cover before it’s snatched away.

Steve blinks at the rapidly retreating figure. “Hey. Hey!” They don’t respond, just jog round the corner in a flash of denim and curly hair. Steve runs after them, nearly slipping in what Steve suspects is spilled juice.

He reaches the end of the aisle, catching another glimpse of denim and curls before it disappears around yet another shelving unit. They play this game of cat and mouse all through Starcourt, Steve growing more exasperated with each subsequent appearance and disappearance.

He gives up somewhere between the food-court and the exit, opting to just go home. Dustin can work with another Transformer or something and be _grateful_ for it. After all, it’s the thought that counts, right?

Steve doesn’t notice the figure sitting on the hood of his car, too distracted trying to retrieve his keys from the lining in his jacket. _Must’ve fallen through the hole again_ , Steve thinks. _Knew I should’ve taken Nance up on her offer to sew it closed._

“Looking for something, Harrington?”

Steve looks up and is greeted by Billy’s smug smile. “Hargrove.” He sighs.

Billy chuckles. “I wear you out?”

Steve would tell him where to stick it if he had the energy. “Something like that.”

He joins Billy on the hood, bags at his feet, hand held out silently for a Camel. He doesn’t expect Billy’s own cigarette, let alone for it to be held to his lips. He arches his brows, mouth opening in protest. Billy seems to read his mind and sneers, “Don’t be a little bitch, Harrington. Take it or leave it.”

Steve shrugs and leans into the offer, taking a long drag, feels Billy’s eyes roam his face.

“There a reason you’re kicking it on my car?” Steve asks.

“Might be.”

“You gonna tell me?”

“I want something.”

“‘I want never gets;’ my dad _loves_ using that line on me.”

Billy snorts. “I think you want something, too.”

Steve looks at him. “Pooka?” Billy nods. Steve narrows his eyes. “Out with it, Billy.”

Billy licks his lips. “I want a date.”

Steve frowns. “With…Nancy?” Billy smirks, shakes his head. “Then who?”

“You, you fuckin’ idiot. You always this slow?”

Steve blinks once. Twice. “You want a date…with me? I heard that right?”

“Yes? Jesus, you’re stupid when you want to be.”

“In exchange for Pooka?”

Billy drags his hands down his face. “Fuck me, this is painful.”

Steve can’t not take that kind of bait. “That’s what he-“

“I swear to god Harrington, if you finish that joke I _will_ rear end your shitty Beemer next time I’m behind.”

Steve chokes on the laughter bubbling up his throat. “Do you-do you _plan_ these serendipitous little innuendos, or is it a gift?”

Billy smiles around the next drag of the shared Camel. “Maybe it’s a little bit of both. So we on, or what?”

“Just Pooka for one measly date? You must think you’re pretty hot shit, Hargrove, if you think I’m that cheap.”

Billy pushes off the hood and onto his feet. He drops the cigarette, crushes it under the toe of his boot before sidling up to Steve. He leans in, Steve leans back reflexively. Billy plants both hands on the hood, warm smoke-laden breath washing over Steve’s face. “Maybe I could sweeten the deal a little, a _King_ should be treated as such, after all. Name your terms.”

Steve pretends to consider it. “I want…I wanna drive the Camaro.” Billy’s upper lip twitches. “ _And_ I wanna touch the hair.”

Billy closes his eyes as though the mere suggestion is painful.

“Alright;” He grits out. “Get it over with.”

Steve doesn’t hesitate, weaving his hands into Billy’s surprisingly soft curls. “Huh.”

Billy’s eyes are still closed, grimace melting into something much softer. “What?”

“’S softer than I thought, expected it to be crunchy and dry from all the hairspray you throw at it.”

“Coconut oil.” Billy murmurs.

“What?”

Billy’s eyes open. “I keep it soft with coconut oil. And vinegar.”

Steve retracts his hands like they’ve been burned, vigorously sniffing his fingertips for a hint of anything that isn’t Aussie hairspray, cigarette smoke, or just plain Billy Hargrove. “Vinegar?!”

“Don’t knock it till you try it; keeps it soft and healthy.”

“Think I’ll pass all the same.” Steve grabs the discarded box from the hood before standing.

“So we’re on?” Billy asks.

“We’re on.”

Billy smiles, bites his lip. “I’ll pick you up Friday night. Wear something tight for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> From what I can tell from exactly one (1) google search, Pooka and other Dig Dug character figurines did not exist in the 80’s, but I couldn’t really conceive of any other shared interest Dustin and Max would have having not met each other in this slight au, so realism can suck it I guess.
> 
> Originally I wanted them to fight over the toy, not like actual fisticuffs just some verbal sparring, but I like what this turned into much more.
> 
> And okay, I know it sounds weird, but I recently moved from an area with soft water to very hard water and it’s turning my hair into straw, apple cider vinegar rinses have saved me from becoming a bird’s nest. Coconut oil has historically saved me from many a bleaching. Give me more haircare centric Billy and Steve!
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, feel free to make my day with kudos and/or a comment :-)


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